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Another black day to be Irish

I don't know of any other country that shits as much on its citizens' notions of pride as Ireland does. Time and time again.
Today I woke up to the news that a woman was allowed die so her dying baby wouldn't die ahead of time. Now they're both dead, but University Hospital Galway's conscience is clear. It upheld Ireland's good catholic morals, even at the needless expense of life. You can't get much more catholic than that.
Whoever was responsible should be done for murder, manslaughter at the very least, and then slapped repeatedly for stupidity. It won't be any consolation to the husband who lost his wife for no good reason, but maybe a lesson will be learned somewhere along the way.
I felt sick reading the news. It's 2012 for fuck's sake! If you missed it, here it is: http://www.irishtimes.com/newspaper/frontpage/2012/1114/1224326575203.html
Coming after the sex scandals and child abuse, the bishops' cover-ups, the bailout, you name it, it's another ignoble mark of shame for a country that seems to specialize in them.
I'm generally extremely proud to be Irish. On days like this I have no idea why.

I was disgusted to read that yesterday as well. I can easily imagine that we will hear something about the "this is a Catholic country" line not being official policy at all and I can even imagine it being true. But it's so deeply ingrained in so many people, particularly older generations, that they genuinely think they're being, what? Helpful? Or something, when they say things like that. Like it's supposed to be a comfort to hear about the fine upstanding job the catholics are doing making decisions for every aspect of your life that you are just not capable of making for yourself. Sickening.

Cliff: for what it's worth, this is the first couple of lines from the Wikipedia entry on abortion in Ireland, which sums it up fairly well, I think: "Abortion in the Republic of Ireland is illegal unless it occurs as the result of a medical intervention performed to save the life of the mother. However the availability of abortion services can be even more restricted in the absence of a readily available method of determining the circumstances in which an abortion might be lawfully obtained" So in the case of an ectopic pregnancy where emergency surgery had to be carried out, it would be. But if the situation was not yet urgent (if you knew there was an ectopic pregnancy but were not yet in acute pain or danger, which I think is possible although I'm no expert), there is indeed a very good chance that you'll be waiting until it becomes so. I supported one friend on a day return trip to Birmingham for an abortion a few years ago and saw several of the same people on the plane over in the morning, in the clinic and then on the plane home that evening. So the fact that I have to be glad that information on clinics outside Ireland is available at all (even the provision of information which could potentially have led someone to getting an abortion was illegal when I was in college, for example) makes me seeth.

There's a vigil for Savita Halappanavar, to give the poor woman her name, outside the Irish embassy in Berlin this Wednesday at 6pm. https://www.facebook.com/events/455505834508302/I'm not sure where you live, Moonwaves, but thought you'd like to know.

Fro, the "this is a Catholic country" line, I got the feeling that you sometimes get in Berlin - a snotty xenophobic remark. I can't help wondering if besides everything else, her ethnicity played a card.

And being cynical as I am, I think this whole story is great in making people in poorer countries understand, that being First World doesn't mean that you would encounter a "better" culture.

Spudnik Ó Fathaigh has called Berlin home since St. Patrick’s Day 2008, when he arrived doe-eyed and thirsty after a ferry from Ireland and long drive through France. The doe-eyes have since been surpassed by those of his son, as doe-eyed as they come, but the thirst is yet to be cured.
Three stolen bikes, innumerable bike-theft attempts, eight mobile phones and countless (and counting) Sternis later, der Irische Berliner – as he’s also known – spends his time poking his nose where noses aren't welcome and bestowing the benefits of his foul language and gutter speak on the locals.
Of course, he’s a local now too. When not working on amusing alliteration combinations or ignoring Betreten Verboten signs, Spudnik rants, rages and reports to the best of his frightening ability.